Chocolaty Sweet Surrender
by TraceZBullet
Summary: GSR Oneshot. Fluff. Sara wakes up on the morning after Valentine's in an empty bed.


**a/n: This is my Valentine's Day treat for you all ;) Enjoy. It's solely for fluff so this is a one-shot :)  
Chocolaty Sweet Surrender**

It was the day after Valentine's Day, the morning after the most romantic night of the year, yet Sara woke to an empty bed and a foggy recollection. Tongues crashing together, hips jarring, sweat, fire. Was it real? His hands on the tender skin of her inner thighs, expertly probing, flicking, flashing away. Maybe it had been a dream, though she shivered a little with pleasure as she remembered…or was it a memory? Surely the memory of his rough lips on hers and his hands finally where she had wanted them ever since she had met him were not figments. She felt a flash of heat as she remembered his lips trailing down her neck as he held her from behind, their oily bodies sliding back and forth gently.  
Still in the sleepy fogginess of morning, her mind couldn't—or wouldn't—wake up. The sheets felt like ice on her skin and Sara realized she was naked. What had happened? Maybe it had just been a vivid dream. That had to be it. Otherwise, her every fantasy of him would be shattered. _If it were real, he'd be here in my bed with me_, she thought to herself. He's not a coward to run away in the soberness of morning after a night of…passion? Had he been drunk? Wait, no, this wasn't real so it didn't matter. Though, she could hardly imagine him ever letting go— let alone ending up in her bed. No matter how much she wanted him there.   
Another dreamlike memory rose to the surface of her thoughts. His eyes, so dark with need, flickering like black fire, as he attacked her with his body. His thick, gentle fingers—the same ones she had stared at, feeling guilty as she fantasized— began to massage slowly down her hips and between her legs. Even as she clutched him desperately, his lips brushed hers with infinite softness, making her whimper.

Calming her racing pulse and reluctant arousal, she slipped back into a thin sleep.

-- -- --

Leaning in the doorway, he watched the sunlight stream in through the windows. It was truly the most beautiful time of day, now, when the desert wasn't yet hot, when the sun was still gentle. She looked so achingly lovely, with a curl of sweet-smelling hair that tickled her cheek and the loose sheet that had slid away from her shoulder and betrayed the curve of a breast. For a minute, he could forget his worry.  
The truth was, he had no idea what to do. Should he leave now before more damage was done? Should he stay with her, whispering in her ear until she stirred and disappear after breakfast? Should he slide under the sheet with her, as his body ached to do, and make love to her again until she screamed his name?

It wasn't too late, not yet. He could still make his escape. He could pull back in to the shell he had built himself into and pretend he had never let himself go. Maybe she didn't remember. Sara had, after all, been tipsy, to put it lightly.   
She probably didn't remember putting her cool hand on his thigh and leaning in so close her lips brushed his ear as she spoke with the sweet smell of rum on her breath. _"Do you want me?"_ Her words had given him chills. Maybe it was the buzz of liquor in his veins, or just plain lust, but he had turned to her and captured her mouth and pushed her against the bar hard enough to bruise her pale skin.   
He didn't want her to forget.

-- -- --

When she woke, she was more confused than before. Bare skin—not hers, was pressed against the length of her body. She opened her eyes to the sight of salt and pepper stubble and familiar (though slightly swollen) lips. Baby blue eyes gave her an appraising look before he inclined his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. One arm lazily snaked down her shoulder. "It wasn't…" she was afraid to ask as if questioning it would make him disappear.  
"No, Sara, it was real," he rumbled. Her fingertips brushed his bare chest and felt the gentle thrum of his heart beating. He stiffened against her touch and tried to pass off a gasp as clearing his throat. She smiled and licked her lips, inches from his face. Their legs touched barely.  
In a sudden movement, his hands cupped her cheeks lovingly and brought their lips together. Her mouth was sweet. It tasted of milk chocolate, soft and creamy, and of tangy champagne. When had they had that? Her hands slid down his neck and trickled over the curve of his ass. He inhaled sharply as her teeth grazed his lower lip. The taste of chocolate became almost overwhelming, he moaned and his mind went blank.  
With a barely perceptible bucking of her hips, their bare bellies met. It was all the encouragement he needed. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sara," he whispered, and pulled her on top of him.


End file.
